Summertime Memories
by the-frank-way
Summary: Gerard finds himself lost in his thoughts, surrounded by hospital wires. This is a frerard/MCR fic, hopefully going to be a long one!
1. Chapter 1

**Author Note!**

**Hey, so this is my story _Summertime Memories. _I hope you like it! Reviews and comments are encouraged :)**

**I do not own any of these characters, la-di-da...**

**Chapter One**

Gerard looked up. He found himself in a dark, empty room; it wasn't a room he recognised, but he felt safe, secure. Just as he began to notice how silent everything was, there came a flashing light from behind him. A single note rang out every time the light flashed. It was a beautiful sound, like a lonesome wind chime disturbed by the breeze. Gerard stepped towards it and, as he reached out his hand to tough it, another light and another note appeared behind him. He spun around to face it, but couldn't stop turning. It was as though he was in water, floating, turning, his hair brushing against his face as the noise of the notes grew louder and more frequent. He began to notice a pattern in the music, a correlation in the notes which reminded him of a memory. He realised, and began to sing.

"_You can run away with me…"_

Almost as soon as it had started, the spinning stopped and he began to fall through the emptiness. He didn't try to steady himself, didn't try to stop the falling. His stomach dropped as he continued into the infinite darkness.

"_Anytime you want."_

Gerard's eyes flashed open. His nose was acutely aware of the synthetic smell of Alcohol Gel and air freshener. He took his head off the bed and leaned back in his chair, scanning the room. The drip had been changed and was now full again. Other than that, there were no changes he could detect, other than the lack of steam coming off his now cold coffee.

'Fuck' he said.

He got up, stretch his back, pulling his weary arms above head, and let out a groan. Gerard then walked out of the room, careful not to slam the door behind him. He slid his hands into his cardigan pockets as he made his way along the corridor towards the coffee machine. He took in the smells wafting from the individual rooms; one smelled like nappies (Gerard looked in to see a mother changing a baby), another like homemade soup. He remembered the beautifully blended tomato soup that his mom used to make for him when he felt ill or had been beaten up at school, and sighed. He finally reached the coffee machine, selected his order and waited. Nothing happened.

He was just about the repress the buttons when a podgy, middle-aged nurse walked past and said,

"_Sorry hunny, machines out of order today."_

"_Oh, alright. Thanks."_ he said.

"_Fuck"_ he thought.

He turned on his heels and headed back towards room 13318. The smell of the glorious soup had morphed together with the odours of sanitation and baby-shit.

"_Is there __**nothing**__ good here?"_ Gerard thought.

He gently opened the door to room 13318 and sidled back over to his previous slumped position on the chair. He rested his head on the back of it and rolled his head to the right. He stared at the monitor, watching the steady oscillation of the lines, the muddled confusion of numbers barely changing, hearing the dull whir of machinery and the gentle 'beep' of the monitors. As he sat there, he willed them to change their marching tune, for the monotone melody to send some signal of a change in their host's condition.

An hour passed. No change.

Gerard sighed heavily and rolled his head to the left. His eyes followed the multitude of wires from the monitors, across the floor, up to the side of the bed, over pale, motionless fingers, up a forearm. Some trailed off under the hospital gown to needles in arteries and sticky patches on the chest. He followed a thick, plastic tube over the abdomen, past the white sternum, to the mouth. It was partially open with the tube forced down the throat and taped in place across the face. Gerard stared at the lifeless lips, lips which he knew so well, had explored with his own; their usual fiery crimson was now a shadow of grey.

"_Oh Frank."_

Gerard stood up and walked over to the side of the bed. He perched himself on the edge and rested his head next to Frank's on the pillow, reaching out a hand to stroke his black hair with his fingers. He twirled a lock of it carelessly, as though it were a blade of grass in a field on a summers evening, all the while gazing at Frank's closed eyes, willing them to open, or at least quiver. Something.

But Frank just lay there, defiant in his stillness.

They lay that way for hours. Slowly the hustle and bustle of the hospital faded away and Gerard fell into another patchy sleep. No lights or notes this time; just he and Frank were together in the room. Frank looked like an angel, his face radiant and his hair flowing in some invisible breeze. Gerard was glad for the chance to gaze into his hazel eyes; the streaks of green were alight and flashes of cinnamon-brown cut through the other colours, like night's stars reflected on a river's surface. Gerard could see his own reflection in Frank's eyes as they turned in perfect synchronisation.

"_I love you."_ Frank's voice was a lyrical whisper.

"_I love you too. Always"_ Gerard leaned in to kiss him.

"_Hunny?"_

"_Yes Frank?"_

"_HUNNY!?" _

The screaming of Frank's voice made Gerard jump. Suddenly Frank flew backwards, closing his eyes, his terrible scream piercing the room.

"_Frank, NO!"_

Gerard called helplessly as Frank's voice faded into the distance. He tried to claw at the air, but found he could not move; the harder he fought, the tighter the grip on his arms. Tighter and tighter.

Gerard woke with a start to find a chubby hand on his arm, which was wrapped around Frank's waist. He looked up in alarm into the face of the nurse.

"_Hunny, visiting hours are over. You have to go now."_

Gerard, disorientated, slid his legs off the bed and sat there for a moment, before walking back over to the chair and grabbing his satchel. He followed the nurse out of the room and she pointed him in the direction of the ward exit.

Gerard mindlessly pushed the lift button, heard the 'ding' and walked in. On the first floor, he walked out towards the exit. Two nurses giggled as he passed them, but he did not hear. In his ritual way, Gerard hit the button on the big glass doors and glided out of the hospital.

When he finally reached his own front door, he fumbled for his key and slid it into the lock, first time. Not bothering to take off his shoes, he walked upstairs and fell face down onto his bed.

He did not cry. Tears had not come to him for weeks. He inhaled deeply, taking in every last scent from the sheets. All trace of Frank was now long gone from them. Gerard remembered how he had sat by the washer and wept when he washed the sheets for the first time since, knowing that he would no longer feel Frank there at night. It would not be the same without his sweet, sweaty, smoky smell comforting Gerard. He rolled over onto his back and let his exhaustion draw him into a deep sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author Note:**

**This chapter is dedicated to Adrian Watson, a wonderful man, who died tragically this week in a car crash. He touched the lives of many and will be sorely missed xx**

**Chapter Two**

The next morning, Gerard awoke, still lying on his back, fully dressed, feet dangling off the edge of his bed. He could not find the will to sit up, and so there he lay, running through in his mind all of the things that he had to do that day.

He was just about to mentally fill his schedule until about 3pm when he suddenly felt a strange sensation on his forehead. A temperature contrast concentrated on a particular pressure point…

_Drip._

Gerard's eyes flew open and took a second to focus on the ceiling. He gasped in horror as another drop of blood dripped down right between his eyes. Like a flick of ink it splashed across his face as he stared dumb up at the crumpled, broken body of Frank, spread out like a starfish on the ceiling. His once hazel eyes were frozen with a terrified glint staring straight at Gerard. His arms and chest were woven with deep lacerations, blood oozing from each crevice and trickling to the lowest part of his navel, before dripping down.

Before he understood what was happening, the body began to fall towards the petrified Gerard who could do nothing but wait to be engulfed by death.

Gerard sat up in a flash, his head whirling. He was panting, his breaths raspy and uneven. His clothes were covered in sweat as they were most mornings. His head shot round to look at the bed where he had just lain. No Frank. Another dream.

He took a moment to collect himself then, glancing at the ceiling as he rose, he made his way shakily downstairs.

The cereal cupboard was faithfully unappetising as Gerard reached in and grabbed a box of some E-number-fuelled kids crap. His crunching broke through the silence like the distant call of a gull way out in the ocean.

When he'd finished, he took his bowl over to the piled-up sink, found no room in it, and so traced along the surfaces until he found a space. Job number 1: Wash up.

He perched on the side and looked around the kitchen. There was little in here other than the kitchen appliances, a big white fridge-freezer, an oven, a trash can and a washing machine.

Gerard let his eyes wander over the cartoons stuck to the face of the fridge. There were some of his own, characters which he had worked on since he was a kid; a Batman which he was particularly proud of stood out above the rest. Others were Franks; one was a sketch of an Eagle tattoo he had planned to have, another a caricature of Gerard. How perfectly he had captured his tiny teeth, the way he smiled to the side of his mouth, his 'button nose' as Frank called it.

The corners of Gerard's mouth attempted a sad smile.

He slumped out of the kitchen to get his shoes, making a mental note to wash up when he got home. He grabbed his satchel and keys and made his way out of the door, locking it behind him.

As Gerard leaned his head against the bus window, He felt the vibrations running through him, vigorously massaging his aching temples. He watched the sheet of water collect on the pane, individual trails of rain converged to form pools on the window, distorting the view of the dull grey exterior of the vehicle.

His mind wandered to previous years when he had walked these streets, as a child holding the hand of his brother, gripping it tight because he was the older brother and had to look out for little Mikey. As a teenager, he had hidden behind that dumpster more than he cared to admit to escape Brett McFell and his cronies from school. Sometimes the corner shop owner, old Mr Myers, had taken pity on him, seeing the punishment for his unpopularity being brutally served, and scaring away the gang. The kind old gentleman had died not long past; heart attack. No family attended his funeral, and even the beggars searching for scraps of food kept their distance.

There was a screech of brakes, and Gerard half-heartedly jolted in his seat. This was his stop.

He got off the bus, and looked up at the looming tower as the bus sped away, taking it's inhabitants forward in their habitual existences. The hospital had colourfully painted railings, conning passers by that this was a happy building.

Gerard made his way up the ramp towards the doors, pushed the button to release them and let a lady in a wheelchair enter in front of him. She thanked him with a smile and it was all he could do to muster one in return.

"_G'morning, Hunny. You're here early."_ said the friendly nurse.

Gerard nodded his head in her direction as he made his way to over to the coffee machine.

"_Maintenance team fixed it all up this morning just for you, hunny!"_ she sang, humming a lilting tune as she made her way down the ward corridor and into room 13310.

Gerard fished in his pockets for some coinage, found what he needed and slit the selection into the slot. He pressed his regular sequence of buttons and listened to the now familiar whir of the machine. The droplets of hot milk dancing on the bottom of the empty cup stirred up the memory of his dream that morning, and Gerard made an effort to force the image of Frank's harrowing stare out of his mind.

He grabbed the cup and, careful not to waste a drop of the precious contents, he made his way along to corridor towards room 13318.

He peered in through the slot window to see a team of young doctors and nurses surrounding the bed, all of them scribbling furiously onto clipboards and charts and nodding intently. Gerard knew that they must be medical students doing rounds as there had been no significant change in Frank's condition for weeks for the official team to document.

He turned to lean against the wall instead of entering the room, not wanting to receive any young, interested faces who wished to offer their deepest sympathy and condolences or, more likely, quench their curiosity over a real-life gay man.

A few minutes had passed, then the door beside him swung open and the babble of lab coats fought their way towards the lift doors; time for them to swarm the cafeteria.

Gerard caught the door on the back swing and slipped inside the room. He was met with the usual sounds and smells, the alcohol gel and the regular _beep_ of the monitors. He hooked his satchel over the back of the chair which had been pulled to the opposite end of the room. He returned it to the side of the bed, positioning it at a perfect distance so that he could rest him arm on the mattress and mindlessly play with frank's precious fingers as he lost himself in his thoughts.

As he sat there, Gerard noticed that the cardigan he had on was not his. The sleeves were twice rolled up and the corner of the collar was ruffled with tell-tale signs of Frank's chewing habits. He smiled, remembering when Frank had bought him his first cardigan, engrossing Gerard in the 'world of comfort' as he called it.

It drew his mind back to better days, like the summer before last…


End file.
